I recently spent a couple weeks in China, where my favorite activity (aside from eating) was reading the incredible attempts at English translation that one finds on almost every piece of written tourism material. I tore out this lovely “Editor’s Word” from Eastern Channel magazine, and I want to share it with you now, as it seems relevant to the grape harvest. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s relevant, but honestly it’s hard to tell. And let me preface with a very large [sic]:
This summer,what we harvested ?
The weather is still hot,even hotter than all previous years. Another summer will come with the extremly hot.In the summer,everyone want to know what can be harvested?
Stand in situ,the memories seem to disappear.Once,when close our eyes,they emerged with a disorder way, different colors which are
Memory is a strange thing.Though sometime you didn’t remember eat what one hour age,do what half an hour ago ,say what or prepare to say what one minute ago,you recall some nonchalant dailogue romote time ago,or a memory fragment which flashed in heart.And they may retain silence ,or disapper in the air.
So,what we harvested? Why my heart is always full of something which is about to burst? I don’t kown what is I can hold, the smile? the miss?or the disorder fragments,the only to know that it isn’t you.
When we spray the memory,the missing and suffering spread recklessly,in a certain space ,free and active,growth to a woods like a maze,prevent the lose man find their way.The flowers still blossoms in silence,make me weep and suffocation.
So,accept it,echausts the long life and the patience, waited for the surrouding and the submergence.the micro flashing point show sharp cutting light.If this is the right we must encounter,its may the gifts which leaved when something gone.
So there you have it. Watch out where you spray the memory. For my part, I will take these words as a reminder to be patient as I wait for my grapes and to avoid the flowers that make me weep and suffocation.